


Unscheduled

by Anthemyst



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Gabenath Exchange 2018, Light Angst, One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 16:17:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15610158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anthemyst/pseuds/Anthemyst
Summary: An unscheduled meeting appears suddenly on Nathalie and Gabriel's shared work calendar.





	Unscheduled

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sodokachi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sodokachi/gifts).



> Written for the GabeNath Discord Server Gift Exchange

Nathalie Sancoeur could count on one hand the number of times Gabriel Agreste had personally modified their shared work calendar. Oh, he demanded alterations on a near daily basis, and that wasn’t even counting how often Nathalie had to reschedule meetings due to his akuma attacks. But with very few exceptions, he issued verbal commandments and left the actual rescheduling to his assistant.

The last time he’d done it, in fact, had been to inform Nathalie that he’d acquired the Butterfly Miraculous. That was a meeting Nathalie would not soon forget.

When, therefore, Nathalie’s five minute warning alarm went off in the middle of what should have been a solid two-hour block of uninterrupted evening work, Nathalie had a minor heart attack. Her mind raced as she fumbled for her Blackberry, trying to think of any possible explanation for the oversight. But no, she hadn’t forgotten scheduling something herself, there were no urgent shows coming up, and Nathalie couldn’t think of a single business reason for Gabriel to schedule a meeting himself instead of simply informing her in person.

The meeting was unlabeled save for an extremely ominous “Private”, the location was marked as the Agreste’s formal dining room, and Nathalie was 150 seconds from being late.

Frantically, Nathalie grabbed her tablet, and her notepad, and several pens. She rushed out of her office and down the long, open hallways of the manor. She took a deep breath, braced herself for anything, and entered the dining hall.

Nathalie… Nathalie had not braced herself for this.

Rows of candles lined the perimeter of the room, along with vases overflowing with red daylilies. The usual furnishings of the room had been replaced by a small table set for two. What was obviously an exquisite meal sat on two fine plates, the steam rising from them visible in the light of the candelabra at the center of the table. Over the room’s speakers, soft cello music played.

Nathalie heard the door open behind her, and her heart skipped a beat. She still hadn’t recovered from the sight before her, she still had no idea what she thought of it, she’d had no warning whatsoever that her employer’s feelings towards her were anything other than-

“What is the meaning of this, Nathalie?”

Nathalie frowned, then turned to face her boss. “You tell me,” she said, the strangeness of it all making her bolder than usual. “You’re the one who scheduled it.”

“I most certainly did not.” Gabriel’s gaze scanned the room. He looked bewildered as the soft yellow light danced in his eyes.

“Well, _I_ didn’t schedule it!”

“That hardly seems possible, Nathalie. Are you suggesting someone hacked our personal calendar? For _this_? To what end?”

“Of course not, I just…” A memory struck Nathalie, and she groaned softly. “ _Oh_. I think I know what happened. I gave Adrien access last week. He was always asking about your schedule, and when it conflicted with…” Nathalie’s cheeks flushed suddenly. “I’ll talk to him. I apologize.”

“Adrien?” Gabriel frowned. “Why on earth would he do something like this?”

“He must… oh, God… he must be trying to get us together.”

“We’re always together already.”

God, Gabriel really could be dense sometimes. “ _Together_ , Mr. Agreste.”

“Ah.” Now it was Gabriel’s cheeks that flushed. “I’m sure Adrien has more sense than to-”

“He was asking me about my social life last week,” Nathalie said. “He seemed very distressed when I told him I didn’t have one.”

“Still, I don’t think he would-”

“And he asked me what my favorite flower is,” Nathalie added, gesturing to the vases of lilies. She looked around the room again, slightly less bewildered now that she knew Gabriel had nothing to do with it. “He must have had the whole staff in on it. Even the chef.”

“Clearly. You’ll have to begin scouting for his replacement first thing tomorrow morning.”

Nathalie bit back a grin. “Well, now that that mystery is solved, I do have to be getting back to-” Nathalie was cut off by a loud growl of her stomach, and she instinctively crossed her arms across herself, embarrassed.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Miss Sancoeur, did you eat today?”

“I… might have skipped lunch, sir.” And breakfast. “I was busy.”

“I see.” Gabriel looked past her, to the table set for them. “Well, no sense in letting this meal go to waste, is there?”

“Sir, you don’t have to-”

“I skipped lunch as well, as it turns out.” Gabriel walked past her and sat down. “If the meal’s good enough, I might even reconsider firing the traitorous chef for going along with this ridiculous scheme in the first place.” Laughing, Nathalie crossed to join him.

 

* * *

 

Just as Nathalie took her last bite of steak the cellos faded, and a loud waltz began to play. Nathalie sighed as she dabbed her mouth with her napkin. “Adrien really did think of everything, didn’t he?”

“My son certainly is,” Gabriel sighed, “thorough.” They listened to the music for a minute. “I used to dance quite a lot, you know.”

“Really? I didn’t know that, no.”

“I gave it up years before you were hired.”

“Why?”

Nathalie could have sworn she saw the hint of a smile playing at the corners of Gabriel’s mouth. “Emilie had two left feet,” he said.

Nathalie’s jaw nearly dropped. Not only had Gabriel said something negative about his missing wife, but he’d mentioned her and actually looked _happy_. “Oh, I’m sure she wasn’t that bad,” Nathalie said diplomatically.

“The day we were married, I was lucky to escape the reception dance floor with all my toes intact.”

Nathalie laughed again. “I didn’t know you were funny, sir,” she said, before she could think better of it.

Gabriel stood and held out his hand. “Shall we?”

Nathalie hesitated. “I’m not exactly graceful myself, you know.”

“Nonsense.” Gabriel took Nathalie’s hand and gently but firmly led her a few steps away from the table. The rest of the room was empty and open. Gabriel put his free hand on Nathalie’s waist and began the familiar pattern of steps. Nathalie had learned the waltz ages ago, and she quickly fell into the easy up-up-down rhythm, following Gabriel’s lead on autopilot. Gabriel went through the basic pattern a few times before beginning to rotate and circle the room, adding in the occasional twirl as the music demanded.

 _I should be wearing a dress_ , Nathalie thought, suddenly sheepish. She glanced down at her sensible blazer and slacks, an outfit perfect for busy days and late nights working, but utterly out of place in this romantic setting.

“You see?” Gabriel said. “You’re a natural.”

“You’re easy to follow, sir,” Nathalie replied. The waltz died down, and a tango began to play in its place. Without warning, Gabriel shifted from the wide, open dancers’ embrace of the waltz to the more closed, intimate embrace of the tango. He took a slow but decisive step forward, and Nathalie’s foot moved back of its own accord.

Nathalie wasn’t sure where her body stopped and Gabriel’s began, and she felt like a puppet in his arms. For a moment she almost felt as if she were outside her own body, watching herself from above, but then Gabriel would extend her leg or twist her torso, and she’d suddenly be all too aware of being exactly where she was.

The tempo picked up, and now Nathalie was aware of beads of sweat forming at her hairline, she was aware of how Gabriel’s breath quickened, how their hearts raced as one. The music reached its crescendo and Gabriel’s arms tightened around her as he lunged forward, dipping Nathalie back, her leg instinctively wrapping around his for support. They stayed frozen like that for a moment, the song over, the silence stretching on for what felt like an eternity.

Gabriel straightened up suddenly, pulling Nathalie with him so fast her head spun, and pulled away from her as though her skin suddenly burned him. “Forgive me, I-I didn’t-I have to-please excuse me, Miss Sancoeur,” and before Nathalie could even begin to form a response, he’d rushed out of the room.

Nathalie blinked. _Where is he_ -

She didn’t finish the thought. She knew exactly where Gabriel was going.

 

* * *

 

The sight of Gabriel standing stoically in front of the golden painting of his wife was all too familiar, but the pang in Nathalie’s heart as she entered his office was new. “Sir?”

“Nathalie.” Gabriel didn’t turn around. “I apologize.”

“For dancing or for leaving?”

Nathalie saw Gabriel’s hands clench. “Both, I suppose. I would not have suggested staying if I’d thought I’d let myself get carried away as I did. You should go home.”

Nathalie winced. “I haven’t finished my work for the day, sir.”

“It can wait. I think your day has been more than long enough. Good night, Miss Sancoeur.”

Nathalie turned to exit, then stopped. “Gabriel.” Gabriel didn’t turn around, but even from behind Nathalie could tell he was startled at the informal address. “Gabriel, I want her back, too.”

Gabriel finally turned to face her, his eyes narrowed. “Pardon?”

“I don’t help you because I’m just that professional, you know. Emilie was one of the best people I’ve ever known. I want her back, and I’ll do anything to help you save her.”

Gabriel nodded slowly. “I’m glad to hear that, Miss Sancoer.”

“And whatever happens between us, that isn’t going to change. Whatever it takes, however _long_ it takes, I will be by your side helping you. So why can’t we, in the meantime, can’t we take comfort in one another?”

“No.”

The word landed like a blow. “Why not? You think Emilie would begrudge us this, begrudge us this small scrap of happiness while we-”

“Stop.” Anger flashed across Gabriel’s face. “Don’t talk about her like that. Of course she wouldn’t.”

“So why-”

“Miss Sancoeur.” It was more formal than his usual ‘Nathalie’, but somehow it felt more intimate. “The path before us is not an easy one. I told you that when we began. And I know myself well enough to know that the happier I allow myself to be without Emilie, the harder it will be to do what must be done to save her. Do you understand?”

Suddenly, Nathalie was furious. “That’s it? That’s what you tell yourself, that’s why you insist on making yourself miserable, building yourself your own little hell and dragging everyone around you down into it while you-”

“Nathalie.” Gabriel’s voice was hard now, the laughter was gone from his eyes, vanished so completely that Nathalie began to doubt she’d seen it in the first place. “I think you should go home before you say something you’ll regret tomorrow.”

Nathalie sighed. There was no point, no use. She turned and slowly opened the door. “I had a nice time tonight,” she whispered. She stepped out of the room, and just as the door closed behind her she heard Gabriel’s reply.

“So did I.”


End file.
